Carry

The GT Weekend!

At Gracefully Truthful, weekends aren’t for “checking out”.
Use this time to invite the Almighty’s fullness into you life in a deeper way!
Saturdays and Sundays are a chance to
reflect, rest, and re-center our lives onto Christ.
Don’t miss the opportunity to connect with other women in prayer,
rest your soul in reflective journaling,
and spend time worshiping the Creator who
longs for intimacy with each of us!

Worship Through Journaling

Worship Through Journaling

1) The Christian beliefs that have shaped the Church today are first and foremost anchored heavily in Scripture, but they were also bravely fought for by brothers and sisters down through the ages who loved the Savior, honored God’s Word supremely, and therefore, refused to give ground to lies over truth. When we believe a lie, it changes the landscape of our lives. Perhaps imperceptibly at first, but over time, the lies we believe grow, quickly taking ground in our hearts. Where are you and I believing lies over truth? There is only one way to know: search the truths of Scripture and pray for the Spirit to convict your heart as you seek His. Do this with me, Sister!

2) As you read through Paula’s Journey from Wednesday, you may notice that many of the “new ideas” brought about by the brave believers in the Middle Ages are commonplace to us in our everyday. We can thank the steadfast Christ-followers of this era for holding so tight and fast to Scripture, believing the message of God to be for more than rituals and mindless Latin expressions. The Spirit of God prompted them to push the envelope on what was common in “religion”, what was “the way we do it” in church life, and we still feel the rippling effects of what the Lord did through them. What would it look like for you to re-evaluate your regular, everyday faith journey and even how you view church, and held it up to the Scriptures? Where is God inviting you to carry His torch of truth?

3)Luther boldly nailed a document to the door of his local church body because he cared more about following Jesus and holding tight to the truth of Scripture than he did his own comfort or popularity. What if we all, as Christ-followers, truly loved the Church as a whole and each of our brothers and sisters in Jesus with that kind of love? A love that called out truth, but did it with grace. Who do you know who needs you to come alongside, offering truth and grace? Where do you need it? Write “truth and grace” in a place you will see it often this weekend as a reminder of how desperately we all need them both, then commit to living it!

Praying Scripture back to the One who wrote it in the first place is a great way to jump start our prayer-life! Pray this passage from 1 John 1:6-7 back to the Lord and
let His Spirit speak to you through it!

If we say we have fellowship with Him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.

Prayer JournalSpirit! How deeply I need Your conviction! How often I need Your reminder to cling to truth and apply Your teaching in my everyday life! Convict my oft’ wandering heart of my sin, let me see it plainly. Fill my heart so abundantly with Your overwhelming love for others that I literally ache with pain to see another walking in darkness.
Give me boldness, like all those brothers and sisters who have gone before me, to love with grace and truth. Here in the precious place where Your blood covers our sin, Jesus, is sweet unity with one another and You. Lead Your Bride here, Abba Father! Bind us together in Your strong Name!

Read His Words Before Ours!

The crowd around me jeered and chanted as the bleeding convict before us struggled to carry the heavy wooden cross. I couldn’t quite glimpse him, but based on the fury and fear contorting the faces nearest him… I was pretty sure I didn’t want to. He must have stumbled, because the volume increased to a roar as bodies surged toward him with intensity.

My own pulse quickened as I ushered my sons ahead of me away from the scene.
“Hurry, boys, hurry,” I urged.

“You!” A soldier’s gruff voice cut through the air like a scythe. Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder forcing me to stop. My heart dropped. I stood still for a moment, then turned to face the armor-clad guard. I met his stern gaze with silence.

“You will carry his cross.”His words forced their way out and hung in the air between us like a dare.

I considered arguing with him, but seeing the tension of the soldier’s face, I could see nothing good would come of it. I took a slow breath and nodded, then turned to face my sons. Confusion and worry shone through pale faces and wide eyes. I tried to assure them with a smile as I shrugged my pack off and handed it to them, then pulled them in for a quick hug.

“Follow along, but stay back,” I whispered. “I don’t want you in the thick of this.” They nodded, dark eyes trained on my own, but their concern was evident.

“This way,” barked the solder.

The crowd parted as he turned, and I followed him the fifteen or twenty paces back to the prisoner. As we drew closer, I could see that blood had dripped from the cuts on his face and back, staining his brightly colored robe. The crimson fluid trickled down and mixed with the dirt on the street where he knelt.

I stepped closer, bending down to grasp the heavy wood beam. As I lifted the cross from his shoulder and transferred it to my own, he stumbled at the sudden release of weight and clutched my shoulder to steady himself. At the touch of his hand, heat roared down my arm and across my back. Startled, I thought, this man has power!

For the first time, I sought a glimpse of his face. He straightened and as his gaze met mine, I finally saw him. The noise and chaos around us fading, and I found myself transfixed.

Long, dark hair framed a kind, broad face. His jaw was firm, but not overpowering. A straight nose pointed to a full mouth. The blood dripping down his face did nothing to detract from the piercing, intellectual eyes which peered kindly at me. Captivated, I noticed their color was more amber than brown, more golden than green.

Gentle, I thought. His eyes are gentle.

He wasn’t smiling, but I knew instinctively that when he did, it would be with his whole being. Tanned skin spoke of days, weeks, and months spent outdoors. The calloused rough hand resting on my shoulder made me wonder if he’d ever been a carpenter.

“This man is innocent!”, my spirit cried out.
My eyes filled inexplicably with tears, and I opened my mouth to say something to him, anything. But the words wouldn’t come.

“Simon, it’s alright,” he strained, squeezing my shoulder gently.

My eyes widened. His voice was like the sound of rushing waters, and I gulped back the sob suddenly threatening to cross my lips. I didn’t even question how he knew my name, because I had known from that first touch he knew me.Not just my name, but who I was.
My history, my present, my future.
My thoughts, my secrets, my sin.

He knows me.
My mind roared. How does he know me?! And what does that mean, innocent?
There is no such thing! That is why we bring a sacrifice. That’s why we follow our traditions, why our priests intercede for us. It is our way! It is THE way! It’s why I’m here now, for Passover.
The sacrifice is required as payment for our sin.

His gaze lingered, his eyes filling with compassion as he watched a single tear escape down my cheek. He nodded once, then turned and began to walk away.

Wait. Compassion? For me? My thoughts whirled and crashed against one another in a frenzy. As he limps the road to his own execution…? Nothing made sense. And yet, he IS innocent.
I shook my head to clear it.

Who IS this man? And why must he be crucified, when he is innocent? My mind continued to turn as I wondered. I blinked furiously to hide the tears and hefted the heavy cross up higher on my shoulder. Then, with my thoughts still racing, I followed him.

I studied the way he moved quietly through the crowd. His body, bleeding and bruised, moved with a stately grace that conveyed complete calm, in stark contradiction to the chaos surrounding him. Men and women crowded in, shouting insults with raised fists. Some even spit at him. Others shoved and pushed struggling for a clear view.

Through the din, the sound of a woman crying caught my attention, and I turned to glance back. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob, and I watched as another woman put an arm around the first. Several others walked with them, also weeping. Some cried silently, while others wailed and clutched trembling hands together.

“Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and your children. Look, the days are coming when they will say,
‘Blessed are the women without children, the wombs that never bore,
and the breasts that never nursed!’
Then they will begin to say to the mountains, ‘Fall on us!’ and to the hills, ‘Cover us!’
For if they do these things when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”

His words rang with authority I’d never known, and again I was struck by the almost musical quality his voice carried. The women behind me fell silent as he turned away, and I felt a trickle of sweat drip down my back. We trudged up the final hill, and my own labored breathing filled my ears. Finally, the guard held up a hand, and our grim procession halted.

“There!” the soldier gestured.

My stomach dropped.
Twin crosses protruded from the earth into the sky on either side of the space where he pointed, and as I squinted I realized I could see the limp form of a man hanging on each.

The lump in my throat grew bigger still, and my gaze returned to the prisoner in front of me.
He nodded, and my knees buckled.
Everything within rebelled at the thought of what would surely happen to the man with the voice.

NO, my heart thrummed tautly. HE IS INNOCENT!

As if they possessed a life of their own, my hands reached up and grasped the heavy, wooden cross from my shoulder, dropping it to the ground. As the weight was lifted from my body, I felt a different sort of heaviness filling my chest.

The soldier shoved me and I stumbled backwards.
Four slender arms grasped my waist and legs, and as my sons clung to me, the tears began to fall. I pulled brown, curly-haired heads close, burying their faces in my chest. Sobs finally tore their way out of my throat as my ears registered the sound of two mallets hitting their mark and thick nails pierced flesh and wood. Unable to tear my eyes from the man with the voice, I watched the first soldier hold the man’s feet together as another soldier began to hammer a third nail.

A woman’s shrill wail cut through the air as the mallet pounded one final time, and the soldiers lifted the cross, sliding it in the waiting hole. I swiped my forearm over my face to clear the tears, willing myself to stand as I forcibly pulled my boys away from the grim scene. Their tear-filled eyes searched my own in shock, and though I searched for comforting words, I found none.
I glanced back over my shoulder one last time and my gaze fell on two perfect feet, pinned to rough wood.

For some reason, I could think of nothing but the way his calloused hand felt on my shoulder.
The sound of his voice.
The warmth in his gaze.

A Note About CrossIn this series, we are stepping into the shoes of various characters in Scripture and looked through their eyes as they saw the cross. We do our best to research the culture and times and all biblical support surrounding these individuals to give an accurate representation of their first-person perspectives as they watched the crucifixion, but we can’t be 100% accurate. These first-person stories are our best interpretation of how these characters viewed Jesus as He gave Himself up for us. Our hope is that by looking through their eyes, we will see the Cross differently as well, and be dramatically changed as we encounter the Savior!Enjoy!

Embracing God’s fullness in our lives is rooted in scripture and memorizing His word is vital to our continued growth and depth with Jesus. Tap and hold from your mobile device to download this week’s verse and make it your phone’s lockscreen!

Thanks for joining us today as we journeyed into Cross Week Two! Don’t miss out on the discussion below – we’d love to hear your thoughts!

Read His Words Before Ours!

Before I knew what happened, all went dark. My eyes were open, but I saw nothing.
All was night around me, but somehow, everything inside was lit up.
That was the day Jesus of Nazareth stopped me in my tracks.It was the day He became my Lord, my Light, my salvation. (Psalm 27:1)

My traveling companions led this blind man into the city because that’s where Jesus told me to go. For three days I saw nothing, ate nothing, and drank nothing until a stranger, Ananias, was sent by God to restore my sight.Light held a new meaning for me now.

Having spent time, a long time, studying Scripture and experiencing community, I began boldly preaching in the synagogues that Jesus indeed was the Son of God. Barnabas, a true brother, trusted what God had done in me, and helped the apostles to believe this too.The Light begged to be shared!

Everywhere I preached, some believed, and many hated, spurning me, forcing me to flee for my life just as I had once made others do. The more I shared, the more persecuted I was, but the more pressing the mission of sharing Light began. I was coming to truly understand that I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20) That life is the same light that continues transforming me and others as I preach Christ crucified!

Barnabas and I, like fellow torch bearers, eagerly carried this news to many areas including Antioch, Cyprus, and cities throughout Asia. We so desperately wanted our Jewish brothers to understand a person is not justified by the works of the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ, and that even we ourselves have believed in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 2:16) Faith made possible by Light entering the world. Faith for which I carry this torch, no matter the cost. (John 1:4-5)

It quickly became apparent that the degree of rejoicing and freedom many brothers and sisters were experiencing would also be equally matched with severe opposition against our bodies, our plans, our message – ultimately, we knew, against Jesus Christ.Yet, the Spirit of God strengthened us for each mission,
each task, each opportunity to preach this good news.In fact, we couldn’t contain it!
The gospel of Jesus Christ was a fire set ablaze by the Spirit of God
to build His church – His people!
Joy in our hearts fueled our eagerness to lay down our lives to be a part of this incorruptible flame.

So, I pressed on that the message given to me when I opened my mouth would make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel (Ephesians 6:19). And oh how I loved the church Christ was growing! They became to me like children, so that whether I was present with them or apart, it was my joy to teach, instruct, correct, discipline, and pray that their joy in Christ might be full!

The Sovereign Spirit led me all the way to Rome, and to eventual imprisonment, yet by the grace of God this did not limit my ability to preach the gospel – it only made it flourish!
For this Light shines in the darkness, and darkness cannot overpower it! (John 1:5)
The churches throughout Asia were growing while experiencing intense persecution. Some speculate that this suffering will squelch us, but I know better.
The more we carry the Torch, the stronger the flame will grow.

I fervently wrote while on house arrest, urging them to hold firm to the word of life, so that I could boast in the day of Christ that I didn’t run or labor for nothing. But even if I was poured out as a drink offering on the sacrificial service of their faith, I was glad and rejoiced with all of them. In the same way I so desired that they would also be glad and rejoice with me! (Philippians 2:16-18).

I desired that my imprisonment would be a source of encouragement to the saints in their own suffering. I boldly reminded them to rejoice in the Lord always (Philippians 4:4), and that this would be possible for us as we acknowledged that to live is Christ, and to die would be gain (Philippians 1:21).

Carrying the light of Christ is worth it, infinitely more so than the “meaning” my former life brought me. It’s worth it because Christ is my life. (Colossians 3:4)

Five times I received the forty lashes minus one from the Jews. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked. I have spent a night and a day in the open sea. On frequent journeys, I faced dangers from rivers, dangers from robbers, dangers from my own people, dangers from Gentiles, dangers in the city, dangers in the wilderness, dangers at sea, and dangers among false brothers; toil and hardship, many sleepless nights, hunger and thirst, often without food, cold, and without clothing. Not to mention other things, there is the daily pressure on me: my concern for all the churches. (2 Corinthians 11:24-28).

I have certainly lost much
But this I fully know and believe that everything that was a gain to me, I have considered to be a loss because of Christ. More than that, I also consider everything to be a loss in view of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. (Philippians 3:7)
But, the treasure of the Light, the honor of carrying it, is worth everything, even my life.

A Note About SketchedIn this series, we are stepping into the shoes of various characters throughout history. Some are biblical, some are well-known in modern day times, and some are people our writers know personally. We do our best to research the culture and times surrounding these individuals to give an accurate representation of their first-person perspectives on life and the world, but we can’t be 100% accurate. “Sketched” is our best interpretation of how these characters view(ed) God, themselves, and the world around them. Our hope is that by stepping into their everyday, we will see our own lives a little differently!Enjoy!And keep watching for Sketched Themes to pop up throughout the year!

Embracing God’s fullness in our lives is rooted in scripture and memorizing His word is vital to our continued growth and depth with Jesus. Tap and hold from your mobile device to download this week’s verse and make it your phone’s lockscreen!

Thanks for joining us today as we journeyed into Sketched V Week Two! Don’t miss out on the discussion below – we’d love to hear your thoughts!Click the above image for today’s Digging Deeper!

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The Lord God is the self-naming God. He looked to no one else to define Him. Beautifully, as He reveled Himself to us, He chose a name that encompassed the entirety of His all-consuming presence. I Am. Yahweh. The post The GT Weekend! ~ He Week 1 appeared first on Gracefully Truthful.